Return to Sender
by roxygoth
Summary: Donald and Beakley have a heart-to-heart following Donald writing to Della.


**Hey! Roxy Goth here, so this 1-shot takes place during The Impossible Summit of Mount Neverest and focuses on Donald and Beakley – who I know weren't in the episode before anyone points that out.**

 **Basically it's while the kids and Scrooge where climbing MN what were Donald and Beakley doing?**

 **Just before we start there's been something floating around on tumblr that basically says that Disney have changed the episode order – this one was pushed back so it would be aired for Christmas as it had snow in it.**

 **However it doesn't affect the arch of the series too much, so I'm Donald references the aired order of episodes – not the intended order.**

 **The italics is the letter.**

 **Warning: This is sad, alright. Get ready for feels and possible confusion.**

 **Okay authors note nearly over - I do not own Ducktales 2017 – or 1987 for that matter - or any associated characters in any way shape or form. I do own Jane. [Mentioned only]**

Donald was currently making his way to Scrooges study, pen and paper tucked under one arm. It had been a couple of hours since the kids had left with his uncle and he had done everything on his to-do list.

Shutting the door Donald sighed as he looked round the room. There were two pictures on the wall of Scrooges past adventures, other than that there was hardly anything there. No, he lied, a small picture on the desk of his uncle, his mother and his aunt Matilda when they were younger smiling with their arms round each other.

Donald put the pen and paper down and picked the picture up, smiling softly.

He stared at it for a few seconds before putting it back down in the exact place it had come from. He then proceeded to finally sit down and write.

 _Dear Della._

 _Sorry I haven't written to you in a while, it's been crazy over here. Launchpad crashed the plane again and he, Uncle Scrooge, and the boys landed in Egypt. Oh, and Webby was there to of course._

 _They managed to stumble across a pyramid and naturally just HAD to go inside._

 _Long story short it turns out there were these mummies being enslaved by a mummy king or something? So Scrooge and the kids freed them. Louie and Webby got separated actually from the rest of the group and had everyone worried for about three hours straight. They were fine I hasten to add._

 _You'd had loved it from the sound of it. Being stuck in a dusty pyramid trying to convince mummies to rebel against their leader is exactly the kind of situation I picture you thriving in. You'd had just yelled at the mummy to let them all go, wouldn't you?_

 _Well the boys went about it a little differently than that. Dewey tried to choreograph the mummies to Thriller – you know, Michael Jackson. That went as well as you could expect, although I must admit I do chuckle every time I think about it._

 _Long story short the mummy was actually being controlled by someone? And then he came to life and chased Louie – who is fine I again haste to add. Webby saved him. That girl reminds me of you in a lot of ways you know. You're both intelligent and take no nonsense. Though it does have to be aid you're way better in social situations._

 _Anyway everyone was happy and Scrooge had his first real taste of a burrito. I know, I couldn't believe it when I heard either, apparently Launchpad said he tasted it like a fine wine._

 _The main thing is they all made it home safely._

 _Now Scrooge has taken the kids to go and climb Mount Neverest. Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Well, no doubt I'll hear about it later. Louie's already texted me to say he's opted out of climbing it, not that I blame him. It dangerous, very dangerous._

 _I told him – Louie that is – to stay inside and keep warm. Oh, looks like he's taken my words to heart, he's just texted me to say he's on his way to the sauna. Do they even let ten year olds in a sauna nowadays? Never mind, as long as he's fine._

 _I'm a little worried about Huey and Dewey, obviously, but they're with Scrooge, and Webby of course, I'm ninety percent sure they'll both try their best to make sure they don't die._

 _Whoa. Going into morbid city now. I better go before this gets too dark._

 _See you eventually, lots of love your brother Donald. xxx_

Donald sighed before getting an envelope out the top drawer and carefully putting the letter in it.

He licked it and sealed it before turning it round and putting the date: 02/12/2017 on the back of it in big letters. There was no point putting her name on it.

The ex-sailor stared off into space for god knows how long until he suddenly got up with a burst of strength and stalked of down the hall to his room, muttering under his breath.

After putting the letter along with the others he walked out his room, intending to go out into the garden to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. However he stopped at the top of the stairs when he heard Mrs B going.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

Donald's brow crinkles as he realised she sounded agitated. And it took a lot to agitate Mrs B. So he hurried along to her room and knocked on the door. "Mrs B? You alright?"

The door abruptly opened and Mrs Beakley stood there, her eyes red-rimmed. "What it is Donald?"

"A-are you alright?"

She sighed. "I'm fine, thank you Donald. I'm just." She cut herself off before saying. "Just writing a letter that's all. To Jane."

Donald's eyes went a little wide at that, but he just nodded. There was no need to say anything else. "Oh, well. I'll go. Leave you to it."

He turned to go, but Mrs B spoke again. "Is it wrong?"

He paused, before turning back to her. "Is what wrong?"

She swallowed and said, so quietly Donald might well have missed it had he not been listening carefully. "To write to someone…when you – you know…deep…deep in your heart…there's little to no chance of them coming back?"

Donald sighed and scratched the back of his head. "No." he said simply. "Not just writing to them. If we were in denial…then I think…there would be an issue. But we're not. We've accepted, well I have at least, that the chance of them…her…coming back is slim to none."

Mrs Beakley's breath hitched and she bit her bottom lip before saying. "So have I. But it's not fair. No, it's not fair." Her voice wobbled and she quickly and effectively wiped something from her eye. "Sorry. I don't know what I'm doing-"

"-You're upset." Donald said, fishing a hanky out his breast pocket. "It's natural. She'd be proud you know." Mrs B looked at him and Donald had a fleeting thought that he should shut up, but instead prattled on. "Raising Webby I mean. You've done a good job."

"Oh yes. I've done a brilliant job. She can't even go to Funsey's without panicking." Mrs B said, bitterly.

Deciding to ignore the mistake in name, Donald said. "Look, every parent, guardian, whatever, makes mistakes. No one is perfect. You have raised Webby to be a polite, intelligent girl who can look after herself. Sure she's a little un-socialised, but that will fade with time. Maybe. Hopefully. Anyway, she's got the boys to help her with that so-" He stopped upon seeing the sad look Beakley gave him.

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Donald. Thank you." And shut the door with a bang.

Donald stared at the door for a couple of seconds before going down to make dinner. The boys would be hungry when they got back.


End file.
